


Red King

by Attorney C (arh581958)



Series: #MarveyWeek [13]
Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternative Lifestyles, Fun and Games, Harvard Era, Harvard University, M/M, Mind Games, Pinnochio's, Revelations, Secrets, Student!Harvey, Young!Harvey, associate!Harvey, chessplayer!Mike, gullible!Harvey, innocent!Harvey, square pizza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-21 17:26:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7396723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arh581958/pseuds/Attorney%20C
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Young hot-shot lawyer Harvey Specter tries to sign his first client. His mission is to woo the elusive CEO of the fast-growing online gaming company. He attends the launch party in hopes to meet the Red King but ends up playing a game of chess instead. In this world, things aren't all as they seem. It takes him a while to get that. How's a poker player going to cope?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red King

**Author's Note:**

> Written for ["Marvey Appreciation Week"](http://arh581958.tumblr.com/post/147027643260/attorneycredking), Day 2 - _Through the Looking Glass_.
> 
> I had such a hard time writing this! I toyed around with so many ideas which kept ending up with 'Alice in Wonderland' and not 'Through the Looking Glass'. It took me awhile before I finally focused on the key elements of the seconds story. I also wanted a role!reversal story because Klaine has been asking for one since forever and I thought that this was finally the time to write it, but I ran the idea through my beta and it can't be done with a one-shot. I will need a multi-chapter story to properly write it. So, Klaine, I'm sorry. I've got a draft written for it but it's still a long way from being done. Hope you like this one though. :) 
> 
> Thank you to the awesome, Sam, for beta reading this!

Above everything else, Harvey hates the stupid multicolored top hat that Jessica made him wear. It looks more like a failed Frankenstein of mismatched patchwork than an actual anything, with peacock feathers, frills, and a freaking red rose. 

He really should be thanking Jessica for giving him an opportunity to woo a client right after hiring him. She, quite possibly, just didn’t want to wear a costume but at least he’s wearing something that isn’t half bad—a three-piece tuxedo with a white vest.  

“Invitation?” The bouncer gives him an unimpressed glare. 

“Right here.” Harvey pulls out a small checkered invitation with the words ‘ _ You’re Invited _ ’ alternatively written between the white and black tiles. On the second to the last row from the edge, a small red rose covers the fourth-from-the-right tile. “Happy? Can I go in now?” 

The bouncer, dressed in a weird all-white ensemble, steps to the side. There’s a large shiny door behind him, almost like a mirror, which swings open to reveal  _ Wonderland _ —a seemingly strange ballroom filled with colors dancing on the smoke and all the guests dressed in some kind of costume. 

He sees a woman, in what appeared to be a red  _ Cheongsam _ , walking around. 

“Excuse me, hi,” He says, giving her his most charismatic smile. It hasn’t failed him yet, and it won’t fail him now. She whips around and gets that same googly-eyed expression. He takes note of the small crown on her head.

Her eyes rake over his frame from bottom to top, stopping at his hat. “Great, another mad-hatter. Jesus. This isn’t Alice’s adventures…” He heard her mutter under her breath but then her expression changes into something more pleasant. “Yes, how can I help you, sir…?” 

“I’m looking for the Red King. Have you seen him around?” The Red King aka the mysterious guy behind the up-and-coming online empire.  

The girl, a long haired blonde, rolls her eyes. “Right, well, you’ve got to get in-line.  _ Everybody _ wants to see the king. It’s his party after all.” She sounds genuinely annoyed like she’s been asked the same question all night. “Are you here to play or… sorry, I didn’t get your name. What was it again?” 

“Specter.” He holds out his hand. “Harvey Specter, I’m an associate at Pearson Hardman down at—”

“Spare me the long boring details of your firm. There’s a hundred of guys like you here—wait, I’m sorry,” she stutters mid-rant and freezes, looking at him with a mix of disbelief and incredulousness. “Did you just say that your name was  _ Harvey Specter _ ?” 

Confused, Harvey nods. “Ehrm, yes.” He fishes his wallet from his jacket pocket and pulls out the business card he got less than a week ago. He hands it to her with two hands. “Harvey Specter, Junior Associate at Pearson Hardman Law—” 

She grabs the card, interrupting him. “Well, I’ll be damned.” Her eyes grow wide. “I’m Jenny, The Red King’s assistant. Come with me, Mr. Specter, I think he just might want to see you.” She turns around and disappears into the crowd before he can utter a protest. 

He follows the striking red rose on her hair through the darkened room. They go deeper, and deeper, into the maze-like setup of the ballroom. Harvey feels as though he’s hardly moved at all even if his legs started to ache with all the walking. The floor’s slippery and the smoke’s making it hard to see or breathe. Dancing lights in the mist-like fog aren’t helping either. 

Harvey loses her in the photo-booth tunnel where he accidentally follows a projection of her and runs into an LED screen. It must be the lights, the music, and the smoke, that’s throwing him off his game. He finds his way back to the room and sees a crowd gathered near the back. 

Jenny magically appears beside him. “There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you. I thought I lost you!” 

“Me? You’re the one who suddenly disappeared!” He couldn’t stop himself from complaining. “Look, are you going to take me to The Red King, or am I going to have to find him myself?” 

“Oh, relax, you’re here for fun, not work.” She laughs. “Besides, it’s not that big of a room. You won’t get lost. You  _ can’t _ get lost even if you tried. It’s a simple square.” 

Harvey glared at her like the rose was her second head. As far as he could tell, the room definitely isn’t square. It’s curved around the edges with dozens of tunnels that lead to nowhere. But, in the end, he sighs in resignation. “Will you just get me to your boss?” 

“Sure.” 

This time, she leads him more slowly, looking over her shoulder every few steps to make sure he’s still following. It makes him feel like a child and the embarrassment curls in his stomach. He isn’t some  _ kid _ with no sense of direction. He’ a grown goddamn man, and a rising lawyer at that. This shouldn’t be as difficult as it seems like. 

They enter a sectioned-off portion of the room. It’s nearly empty save for the solitary man sitting inside. 

“Hello, Harvey, would you like to play a game?”

***

_ *** _

_ Five Years Ago _

Finals. Finals. Finals. 

All of his finals finally ended. 

Harvey left his last exam room for the day with a stiff neck and a chink in his wrist. Rotating his right hand, he heard a  _ pop _ every rotation. Soreness and weariness wrapped around him like an anaconda, weighing him down at every step. 

“Harvey,” one of his classmates, Richard, slung an arm around his shoulder, “you coming out with the boys tonight? Celebrate! Wo-hoo, yeah baby, we are free men until the damn results go out. Then, it’s go big and go home, right?” 

Harvey took a moment to think about that. On one hand, he wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep for the weekend but on the other, he knew he needed to build his network as big as possible if he were to be a shark in a sea of nameless, faceless Manhattan lawyers. Two years in law school haven’t been enough to establish his reputation yet. 

Slumping, he put on his best—albeit fake—smile. “Alright, I’ll bite. Where are we going?” 

“Pinocchio’s of course!” Richard declared with a triumphant double-pat on his shoulder. “Where else can you get square pizza and local microbrew, huh?”

Harvey grimaced. “Pinocchio’s is for yuppies who want an excuse to play backroom poker, get high  _ and _ wasted, before picking up some random girl at the bar. Sounds  _ fun _ , hmmm.” 

“Lighten up, Harvey, I hear that Scottie’s gonna be there too. We all know who among our class has chances with that woman, and sources say you. So man the fuck up and help your fellow lad pick-up some chicks while you score the queen bee, huh?” 

To be honest, Harvey could have cared less for her. He already had a job offer waiting for him back in New York. Nevertheless, he allowed Richard to lead him to the small  pizza-parlor-but-bar-at-the-basement establishment. Post-examinees crowded the tables and lined up the bars. 

They squeezed past the initial crowd to a couple of their classmates who commandeered a semi-closed off section near the back. The boys hollered their names in greeting, some with pats to the shoulder. 

Harvey slid onto a chair and caught up on campus gossip, ready to score some extra-cash in poker. Trying to out-lie these soon-to-be-lawyers in a  _ friendly _ game was good practice for whooping their ass in court. He sat between a pair of fraternal twins. 

“No cards tonight, Harvey,” Arnold, a guy that would probably not make it past their second year, told him, “They’ve got the backroom-backroom setup for some kind of board game or something.”

Intriguing, Harvey thought. “What kind of board game?” 

“I dunno,” Arnold whined, taking a wussy sip of his  _ hazelnut _ microbrew, clearly not sober. “The one with the checkered board and all the little pieces. It’s not my game, man.” Then again, he thought that poker was his game but he lost nearly every single time.

“It’s  _ chess _ , stupid,” Amelia, his sister, the twin more likely to reach the bar exams, corrected him in irritation. “And are  _ you _ kidding? You’re here trying to get into Scottie’s pants for the hundredth time in a row, and you’re still going to fail. We  _ all know _ that she only has the hots for Harvey right here.” Arnold glared at both of them. 

Harvey, never one to break a farce, simply smiled. “But it looks like she’s not coming, huh? Tell you what, Arnold, I’ll buy you the next pint after I check-out the chess game. It’s the fancy hazelnut-thing, right?” He stood up, sympathetically patting Arnold on the shoulder. 

“Buy us all a round when you win!” Richard called out from the other side of the table. “No one’s won yet. Or we can drag your sorry ass back here and celebrate you losing for once, Specter!” 

That intrigued Harvey more. “No one, huh? I think I’m pretty sure that I like those odds,” he said, waving off their cheers of support in good humor. 

He worked through the throngs of half-drunk undergrads who didn’t know how to hold their liquor until he reached the backroom-backroom. It was really just a small semi-private area that normally catered to poker games. 

Tonight, though, it held a chessboard. 

“You lining up to play?” A guy that Harvey vaguely recognizes from his year slid up beside him. “You know. five bucks gets you a game, and winner takes the whole pot. This guy’s crazy. He just swoops in and  _ bam _ it’s over before you know what’s happening.” 

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” 

The guy clamped his mouth shut. For a moment he looked ready to burst but then he started spewing some weird Asian meditative shit and his anger visibly dissipated. “It’s Louis Litt. I sit behind you in Professor Gerard’s class.” 

Though the name sounded oddly familiar, Harvey still had no idea who was talking to him. “Gerard?” 

“Ethics,” The guy spat out, “I sit behind you in Legal Ethics. Big classroom. Main building. Jesus, it’s the end of the term. What am I, invisible?” 

‘Yes.’ Harvey wanted to say. This Louis guy couldn’t be any more invisible even if walked around in one of those Macbeth-Era Clothes, and then it hit him. “Ahh, Louis, yeah.” The guy who tried gave himself a—literal—pat on the back for every single question he answered correctly. “I remember you.”

Harvey barely hid a grimace. “Sounds like you’ve tried.” He hummed distractedly, eyes watching the currently players in the room—a punk and  _ the guy _ . “So no one’s won, huh? Where does this guy even come from?” 

“Fifty bucks. Timer keeps on getting me.” Louis, seemingly triumphant that Harvey even remembered him, spewed his fountain of knowledge. “Nobody knows for sure. He came here, set up shop, and started to play. He bought the whole table for an hour rate and it hasn’t even put a dent in his winnings.” He pointed to the heaping wad of fives innocently piled inside a ball cap beside the chessboard, next to the timer. 

On cue, the final bell rung. What surprised Harvey wasn’t the loss of yet another guy but rather  _ the guy _ turned out to be the wrong guy.  _ The punk _ gave an exultant whoop and reset the board for the next challenger. 

“You,” he shot a finger directly at Harvey, “wanna play a little game?” 

It caught Harvey momentarily off guard. 

“Hey,” Louis sputtered from beside him. “I got in line first. I’m next in line.” 

The guy snorted. “Yeah, but I’ve played you what like twenty times? You keep running out of time. Why don’t you just let this new guy play, and you can keep your five bucks, huh?” He smiled, an arrogant boastful smile that plucked Harvey’s strings like a classical guitarist. Louis crossed his arms and begrudgingly moved aside. 

“I would if only your command of the English language was a little better.” Harvey shot back, voice challenging but stance playful. 

Chess guy threw his head back and laughed. “Alright, Mr. Sassy,  _ would _ you like to play a game? There, is that better?” 

Harvey took off his jacket and swung it over the newly vacated seat. It boosted his pride when he caught the guy watching him under lowered lashes. At least he knew that the guy was interested, and the thought unconsciously made him lick his lips. The guy’s eyes still followed. Definitely interested then. 

Fortunately, so was he.

“It’s Harvey,” he said, slapping a ten down onto the table. The guy reached into the cap to hand him back a five but he held his hand. “Keep it, I’m booking you for two games.” 

The guy raised his eyebrow at him. “You’re awfully smug or awfully stupid. Think another game’s gonna help your chances at winning this thing?” He took the ten and dumped it with the rest of the pile. 

Harvey undid his cuffs and started folding his shirt sleeves. He knew damn well how his forearms affected some people. Apparently, the kid wasn’t any different. “I figured I’d give you a chance at a rematch to win your allowance back.” 

“Smug then,” the kid decided, clicking the clock and starting his first move—white king’s pawn to E4, two paces to 4 th row. He opened with the queen’s 3-move trap, and Harvey eagerly played straight into it. “Stupid too. I know you tried but at least you already paid for a rematch.”

Behind Harvey, the crowd booed at the quick game. Harvey didn’t care because now he knew the kid’s style in playing. First rule of  _ his game _ —learn the opponent. The second—play the man, not the game. Except, he didn’t want to call him  _ the kid _ forever.

“It’s Harvey,” Harvey added while he observed the kid reset the board. “Might as well give me a name.” 

The kid glanced up with queen still in midair. “Mike,” he answered quietly then smirked. “You seem like a fun kinda guy. Tell you what, why don’t we make this interesting?”

“I’m listening.” Harvey tried to hit the smug grin forming on his lips. 

“If you win, I’ll blow you. If you don’t, you blow me. Does that sound interesting?” Mike offered with a hint of shame on his face. It wasn’t the first time that Harvey thanked the semi-privacy of the back-backroom. 

“In the cash, yes. In you though…” He trailed off, displaying exactly what he thought about the proposition to Mike’s face. As an added bonus, the spectators couldn’t see his face. “… hmmm, not so much.” 

Mike erupted in laughter and shoved a couple more fries into his mouth. “Oh, I think you are.” He grinned mischievously then started the game with the same move as the first game. 

This time, Harvey was ready. 

***

They end up in his dorm room at a quarter past one. Harvey thanked the high heavens that he splurged a few dollars extra monthly to have a solo room all to himself instead of having a roommate. Rent ate a bit of his food budget but now he could care less if he starved for the rest of the week. 

“Stupid. Fucking. Lock!” He cried out, banging his fist onto the door. He was drunk, frustrated, and on the edge since Mike made it his sole purpose to tease Harvey the entire 20-minute over by touching his thighs, palming his slacks, and whispering every single Kama Sutra position he’d like to try. 

“Gimme.” Mike laughed, taking the keys and pushing Harvey to the side. “Move over. Which one is it?” 

“The round one.” 

Mike laughed again, and it’s easily the most beautiful thing that Harvey’s heard all night. “Alright, there are two round ones but I’d wager in a guess its… this one.” He picked the brass key to the silver and slid slide it into keyhole. The soft click of the lock disengaging sounded like bells to a parade. 

Harvey shoved Mike inside, manhandling the slightly shorter man against the door before it even closes. They ended up slamming it with a loud bang which echoes the apartment. Mike laughed again. Harvey could barely count the number of times he’s heard it for the past thirty minutes. It normally threw him off sex, but Mike made laughing sound sexy. 

“My laugh sounds sexy?” Mike asked, laughing again while Harvey mouthed along his neck. “I thought you weren’t into me?”

That was the line. Harvey stopped, mouth busy sucking a large hickey on the side of Mike’s neck. It started from the pit of his stomach and bubbled up to his chest like a grayer. He laughed and Mike laughed with him.

“This should really be killing my boner but it’s not.” He pressed his forehead against Mike’s shoulder, trying to stop his laughter. “I maybe lied a bit.” 

It didn’t seem to deter Mike either. He worked his hands between their bodies. “I guess that means that we’re, uh… ahah!” He let out a triumphant whoop as their pants came undone. “Compatible outside of sex, huh?” He ached off his back, moaning obscenely as their cocks slid side by side. 

Harvey’s only answer was an equally incoherent moan. “Yeah, yeah,” he gasped breathlessly. Whether it be about the little remark or because it felt so, so good, he really didn’t know. All he knew was that he wanted, “more, come one, I wanna taste you.” 

“Yeah?” Mike asked, and its breathless and husky. “Which part?”

“Cock.” He melted to his knees, nipping, sucking, and generally just running his mouth over the layers of clothing because he didn’t need skin, not yet, not when he can feel the heat radiating just beneath the surface. 

“Shouldn’t I be the one to do this since I technically lost?” Mike laughed again, but it cut off into a moan when Harvey wrapped his lips around the bulbous uncut head. “God, yes!” There was a bang above him. Definitely Mike’s head. Fingers wove down into his hair, nails scratching at his scalp just enough to sting but not hurt. They moaned together. 

“Jesus Christ, your mouth, fuck your mouth is amazing, yeah, yeah, just like that.” 

Thighs quivered beneath Harvey’s hands. Then, all of a sudden, he couldn’t get enough. He wanted to drown in the scent of cheap department store cologne, bury his nose in messy untrimmed golden curls, swallow until the man forgot his own name. 

It wasn’t enough. He wasn’t getting enough. He wanted more. He wanted more skin, more sweat, more of those sweet noises pouring out of Mike’s mouth like honey. Something yanked on Mike’s pants as hard as he could, and it slipped down to reveal the best pair of pale legs he’s even seen in his whole life. Granted, he was drunk and it was dark in his apartment. His judgement might have been a little impaired. He didn’t care. 

Hands gripped his hair, and tugged hard enough to make him pull back. “You suck cock like a porn star, d’you know that?” A thumb traced over his lips, still stretched tight. “I wonder if you fuck like one too.”

Harvey wiped his mouth on the back of his hand with a cheeky expression. “Why don’t we get to my room and find out?” 

Mike laughed again, and pulled Harvey to his feet. “Sounds like one hell of a plan. Show me the way.” 

***

Later in the night—or, quite possibly, in the early pre-dawn morning—Harvey heard rummaging around his apartment. He briefly recalled bringing Mike back to the dorm last night. For all the guy’s flexibility in bed, he was a noisy douchebag when Harvey hadn’t gotten enough of his beauty sleep yet. Something hits a wooden something, there’s cursing, then ultimately  _ someone _ fell flat on his ass beside the coffee table. 

Harvey thought that maybe he should get up, put some boxers on, and help the guy out. 

Christ. 

What if the guy pocketed his stuff? Stole his IDs? Or got the last big of cash from his poker winnings? 

He couldn’t quite give a fuck when the pounding in his head demanded that he go back to sleep. It was a one-night thing. It wasn’t like they would me again anyway. 

Harvey determinedly flipped over to his stomach, still naked, chasing the last bits of warmth that the guy left on his bed. If he inhales strong enough, maybe he can even catch the lingering traces of the guy’s scent to jerk off to in the morning—real morning, not now. 

“Hey, there, sleepy head.” Mike crawled back to bed and whispered, feet shockingly cold against Harvey’s sleep-warm skin. “Do I get breakfast for sleeping with you? You’ve got a half-functioning kitchenette here and I burn toast.” 

Harvey turned around and caught Mike by the midsection. “If I make you breakfast, will you let me go back to sleep?” 

“Deal.” 

True to his word, Harvey made simple pancakes from the box while Mike sat by the counter idly reading through his lecture notes. It felt oddly domestic having the guy still here with him. Normally, one-night stands tend to fuck off in the dead of the night before he even woke up. 

“So,” he said idly, waiting for the trial pancake to burn. “You a student here?” 

“Something like that,” Mike answered after a few moments, voice more guarded than the previous night at the bar. “It’s complicated. Can’t we just, I don’t know, skip the small talk? Make me breakfast and I’ll blow you in the shower before I leave.” 

“Fine,” Harvey sighed. “I guess this means that I’m not going to see you again, huh?” 

Mike looked down and shook his head, hands gripping Harvey’s only coffee mug. “No, not anytime soon.”

***

They fuck once more over the back over the couch, in the shower, and Harvey’s bed.

Then Mike redressed again and left. 

Harvey never saw or heard from him again. 

***

_ Present Time _

Until, today. 

Harvey sees the boy—no, man—he’s been trying to find for all these years. How could he? When he didn’t even know Mike’s last name, or full name even. Now, Mike’s here, sitting on a stupid looking throne chair wearing a crisp red suit that looked like the devil incarnate. All he needs are a pair of horns, a tail, and a pitchfork. 

“So, you’re the infamous Red King, huh?” He says, taking the seat in front of Mike like he had all those years ago. “At least you’ve learned your English better.” 

“Thank you. Running a multimillion-dollar company tends to improve one’s grasp of the language. It comes with the territory.” Mike laughs, and it’s the same as Harvey remembered. It’s oddly familiar to see him after all these years—a little older, a little sharper around the edges, but the same twinkle in his blue eyes that caught Harvey all those years ago. 

The board’s all set and looks like it hasn’t even been touched yet.

“Same odds as before?” He asks.

Harvey takes off his tuxedo jacket and drapes it over the chair. “That depends. Are you going to walk out on me again? I tried looking for you, you know, but apart from that one night, no one ever saw you again. It’s like you vanished into thin air.” 

There aren’t any chess clocks tonight. 

Mike moves his first piece. 

“E2 to E4,” Harvey calls out, with a grin. “I’m starting to think that this is a repeat of that night. I’m don’t really like the outcome of that.” He moves the mirroring pawn to the same position, E7 to E5.

“Why? Because you missed me? I’m flattered, Harvey.” White-knight moves from G1 to F3. “But I couldn’t exactly stay now, could I?” 

Harvey watches Mike’s face carefully. He’s come a long way from being the hormone-led schoolboy from his Harvard years. He knows how to read people better now, and Mike’s faces tells him it’s the truth. Continuing the game, he moves a pawn to D6. 

“So you weren’t exactly from Harvard. What’s the big deal? People from Kennedy or MIT drop by all the time. It’s not like it’s not like Pinocchio’s is a Harvard-only establishment. Jesus, that’s bias on so many levels.” His voice drops when he says his next words. “You could have stayed, if you wanted to.” 

Mike doesn’t meet his eyes. “I couldn’t. Remember when I said that I wasn’t really a student? I wasn’t really—at least not college.” He moves a pawn to D4, biting his lip. 

Harvey’s eyes grow wide. “Jesus Christ. How young were you when we fucked?” He fails to see the sacrificial pawn on D4. His fingers shake when moves his knight to G4. 

Mike takes the black pawn on D5 before answering in a quiet voice. “17”

“17? Aww, hell, what were you even doing near campus if you were, what, a senior?” Harvey moves his bishop to F3, and takes the knight. His hands feel clammy as he moves. He had slept with a minor when he was in college. By all means, he should be in prison right now for statutory rape.  

“I went to a conference, ehrm,  _ Philosophy and Mathematics of Chess _ …” Mike reaches for Harvey’s hand over the table. “Hey, no, no, I know that look. It was consensual, I swear, I promise. That was the best time of my life. Don’t look at me like it was the worst of yours. Harvey, come on, you’ve got to look at me here, Harvey!” 

It inevitably clatters most of the chess pieces away. 

“Why are you here?” Harvey asks after he’s finally calmed down. “Mike it’s been five years. How do you know that I’m still the same person you met at all in Boston?” 

Mike gets up, crosses the gap between them, and kneels by Harvey’s feet. Looking up, the added years shows on his face as he stares at Harvey. “I don’t know, I’m not really sure, actually. But I did promise that we were going to meet again. I just had to make sure that  _ I _ was ready. I’ll wait if you aren’t.” 

It dawns on Harvey how much of a coincidence this whole thing seems, and coincidences don’t happen. 

“You planned this.” He realized, “From the start? Are you even looking for legal counsel or was this whole thing—this party—meant to draw me here?” 

“You’ve been making so many ripples in the water, Harvey, I knew I had to come find you.”

There’s something there. Something in Mike’s eyes that Harvey prayed he didn’t imagine  _ that night _ . A look that says he might be in this thing for more than a one-night stand. Harvey knows,  _ remembers _ , that look as clearly as the present time. 

“You’ve got to either be smug or stupid.” He breaks into a grin, cupping Mike’s jaw. “I’d go with smug because you damn as hell aren’t stupid. Maybe I’m the stupid one because I’m not going to handle your account just because I slept with you while I was in law school. Jessica will kill me but you’re better off in another firm. I won’t use personal connections like that to gain even my first client.” 

Mike chuckles into his palm. “She figured you’d say that. Will it change your mind if I already signed with the firm, and she’s just delegating it to you?” 

“You what?!” 

Mike stands up and crawls onto Harvey’s lap, pulling Harvey’s hands around his waist. “You just said that I’m not stupid, Mr. Specter. I’m not. I already did my research of the firms in Manhattan, and I want Pearson Hardman, not just because you’re in it but because they’re a good firm with no conservative assholes on the board. Then, maybe one day, I’ll get to see your name up on the wall too.” 

Harvey clutches at his waist. “So whether or not I said yes, I wouldn’t have booked you as my first major client?” 

“If you said yes when I said that I chose you because we slept together, I would have hightailed out of here and found another firm,” Mike said confidently, leaning until their noses touched. “Congratulations, Harvey, you just passed my final test. See? I knew the pretty boy from Harvard was still in there somewhere, and I was right.” 

It’s like a weight lifts off Harvey’s chest permanently. He nips at Mike’s throat and licks the bobbing Adam’s apple. After so many years apart, wrapping himself around Mike feels like he’s finally coming home, the part of him that he didn’t know was missing. 

He may not have gotten his first client. Something caught him instead. Tonight, Harvey’s going to devote all his time, energy, and effort to reacquainting himself with every single inch of Mike’s body. 

Tomorrow’s going to be the start of a whole new adventure. 

**Author's Note:**

> As always, if you liked or enjoyed this fic, you should know what to do. **Comment/Kudos/Bookmarks** are always appreciated by this author. :) 
> 
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